Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Czech Republic and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mr. Review to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
The Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Monochrome Set,
Idris Muhammad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Average White Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Remains,
a-ha,
The Electric Prunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rod Modell,
Arab on Radar,
Outsiders,
OOIOO,
Todd Rundgren,
Brothers Johnson,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dirtbombs,
Tommy Roe,
Tim Buckley,
Cheater Slicks,
Section 25,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Bananas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Index,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
The Smiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swans,
China Crisis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Invisible,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faust,
Blake Baxter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dark Day,
Rekid,
Reagan Youth,
Wasted Youth,
The Vogues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bill Near,
Wire,
Eurythmics,
Lower 48,
Rakim,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Popol Vuh,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dennis Brown,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.